


You Can Leave Your Hat On

by Inzannatea (Zanna23)



Series: Overtures and Interludes [6]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fanart, Fic, Happy Birthday to 221Aubrina, I don't have the patience for this uber tagging thing that you do, Leave Your Hat On, Smut, Video, millinery mischief, your tags are always so clever and fun and this will just be a bunch of nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 09:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16015097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanna23/pseuds/Inzannatea
Summary: This is just a bit of birthday smut for my weird-sister @221A_brina.  The honey in my tea, the itch in my bee. I love you to the moon and back my dear girl.There are three parts to this, all in one chapter. There's a fanvid, a story, and a sketch or two. I hope you enjoy it, darlin'.





	You Can Leave Your Hat On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [221A_brina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/221A_brina/gifts).



* * *

**You Can Leave Your Hat On**

* * *

 

“I need to thank you,” she said setting down her glass of… grape juice, “For coming to my rescue.”

“Is that what I did?” he smirked. 

“Eventually,” she smiled back, “and you paid dearly in the millinery sense.” 

His eyes softened as he realized what she was doing. 

She glided over to him at the mantle, settling the hat on his head — a queen knighting her hero. 

“There,” once she was satisfied with how it rested on his brow, “For the next woman who uses you for target practice.” 

He said nothing, just held her gaze with more heat than she’d seen from him since before the ‘incident’. That’s how she thought of their brief rift. The ‘incident’.  It had been more painful than she could have imagined.

He loved her. That was clear. He loved her and she’d almost lost him. That thought was unbearable. It was unbearable because she’d done something she swore she’d never do. She loved him back.

Oh, she’d loved other men, but this was different. She loved their bodies or she loved their minds or she loved their spirits. She’d loved other men, but she was always happy to let them go. This love for Jack was deep and full and all-encompassing. She loved Jack in a way she could not shake. Other men grew dull the longer they stayed, but Jack made her hungry for more. There were no other men that could compare to Jack Robinson.

He said they were “more of a waltz”, but that look in his eyes was all _tango_. Phryne sipped to hide the startled catch of breath as she realized the implications of that look. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Maybe…

“I should go,” Jack said softly, “It’s been a long day.” 

“Of course. Jack?”

“Yes, Miss Fisher?”

“Stay a bit longer? I feel badly you haven’t had a proper nightcap,” she ran her fingers down the lapel of his suit coat. 

He held her gaze as he thought through the offer. “Perhaps just the one,” he growled, letting his hand slide down her side. 

“Whisky?” she whispered. 

Jack nodded. 

“Why don’t you take off your coat and relax, Jack.”  She was already trying to push his suit coat off his shoulders. 

“Very well,” Jack smiled and slowly removed his coat, “You promised whisky?”

“I did. Have a seat.” 

Phryne walked over to the drinks cart and poured two fingers in two glasses. 

Jack settled himself on the chaise. 

“You can take off your shoes… if you’d like.” 

“My shoes, Miss Fisher?”  

“If you’d like,” she shrugged. 

“Isn’t that awfully forward and lacking in propriety,” he was teasing her and she knew it. 

“Hang propriety. I just thought it would be more comfortable with all the walking and running we’ve done today,” she sat next to him and removed her own shoes, “If you’re that worried about propriety, you can leave your hat on.”

He thought for a moment, “Well, as long as I can leave my hat on.”  He toed off his shoes. 

Phryne smiled widely. She liked this game. She moved in closer to him, reaching for the buttons of his waistcoat. “If leaving your hat on means we’re not in any danger of flouting the rules of propriety, why not take off your waistcoat?”

Jack’s eyes sparkled with mirth. He took a sip of whisky before responding, “Why not, indeed?”  She’d already unbuttoned half the buttons. No sense in stopping now. 

She helped him slide out of another layer of his armour. 

Phryne licked her lips as she took in the sight of her Detective Inspector in all his shirtsleeves, tie, and braces, tenting-trousers, stocking-footed glory. And the hat. The hat she’d had made especially for him from the best hatter in the city. 

“This relaxation seems a little one sided,” he was looking her up and down hungrily. 

“But, Inspector, how do I maintain my propriety? I’m not wearing a hat.” 

He considered that for a moment, “True. But this is your home. No reason for you to stand on ceremony.” 

Phryne ran her fingers down his tie very slowly letting the silk tickle the ridges of her fingertips, “I so rarely do.” 

She let her fingers pull the tie as far as it would go, dropping it when she reached the edge of her velvet jacket. Her hand slid slowly up and she pushed it deliberately off her shoulders. Jack’s eyes followed the edge of the velvet as it slid down her bare arms until his attention was caught by the curve of her breast under her crocheted shell, “Better?”

Jack swallowed heavily, pulling unconsciously at the now too-tight neck of his shirt. “This is about being comfortable, is it not? Is it better for you?”

“Mmm… it is, Jack,” Phryne confirmed in a purr, “But now you seem a little… constricted.”  She ran her fingers up his thigh, feeling the taut muscles below. She paused for a breath at the waistband of his trousers. The tented material twitched at her in response. With a naughty grin, she continued to run her fingers up his tight, powerful body until they reached the knot of his necktie. “It would appear you need some,” she closed the distance between so much that they both had to tilt their heads to avoid knocking off his hat, “breathing room.” 

“I appreciate your care for my well being, Miss Fisher,” his lips were achingly close to hers. He could feel her nimble little fingers loosening his necktie. 

 

“Miss?” A soft voice came from the entry. 

 

Phryne sat back quickly, “Yes, Dot?” she sang out in too-high a pitch. 

“Oh,” Dot noticed Inspector Robinson in the room, “It’s nothing what can’t wait, Miss. Good night.” 

Dot hastily curtsied and quickly ran up the stairs. 

Phryne was almost afraid to look at Jack after this interruption. She knew he’d be looking for his things to say his good nights. She turned cautiously toward him. 

To her utter delight and astonishment, Jack was still sipping his whisky with a slight smile on his face. His own hand had taken up the task she’d abandoned and his necktie was now hanging loose around his neck. The first three buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned.

He still wore the hat. 

“Perhaps we could continue relaxing,” she gripped the ends of his necktie, “upstairs?”

“I wouldn’t want to be too forward,” his lips quirked up.

“You can leave your hat on.”

“When you put it that way…” Jack ran his hand up the side of her trousers, “lead the way.”

Phryne couldn’t stifle her smile. She jumped up and pulled him from the chaise. 

 

Once they were alone in her room, she pulled him close by the braces. “I think you might be more relaxed without these. Don’t you?” 

He shrugged lightly, “I suppose I would.”  She ran her hands under the straps of the braces and up his chest to help him drop them to his hips. 

“Have a seat, Jack,” she said handing him his drink, “I’ll change into something more comfortable.” 

Jack sank into the chaise while Phryne stepped behind her dressing screen. 

“Where was the ‘wine’ really from?” he asked as she shuffled about behind the screen. 

“Whatever do you mean, Jack? I said I crushed it myself.”  

“You did. You did…” he agreed, “But as I also know that’s not how wine works… what is it really?” 

She stepped back out from behind the screen. He inhaled sharply at the sight of her. She wore a loosely tied shimmering silver robe which dipped deep in the back. 

“Spoilsport,” she huffed dramatically as she dropped onto the chaise next to him and picked up her drink, “alright, fine. Voigt Winery has bottles of juice they don’t mean to ferment.” 

“Ah,” he smiled, “That explains it.” 

“But I did stomp grapes. My wine should be ready in a month or so.” 

“I’d expect nothing less,” his fingers absently traced over the pattern in her robe.

“The hat really does suit you,” she ran her fingers along the brim, and then down to cup his face, “My Jack.” 

He pressed his cheek into her palm, and brought her other hand to his lips to plant a gentle kiss on her wrist, “I am, you know.”  He kissed her wrist again, lightly sucking at her pulse. Phryne held her breath, capturing the moment. “Your Jack.” 

He kissed farther down her inner arm, “For as long as you want me. Tonight. Forever. I’m yours Phryne Fisher.” 

“Jack,” she leaned forward, capturing his lips. He pulled her into his lap to deepen the kiss. She worked on his remaining buttons as his hand snaked into the loose opening of her robe. 

Somehow in the frenzy of kisses, the hat stayed on. 

It stayed on when she pulled his shirt off his arms. 

It stayed on when pushed his trousers down over his hips. 

It stayed on when she unbuttoned his union suit and took his cock in her mouth.

It stayed on when he picked her up and slid into her as he pressed her against the door. 

It stayed on when he collapsed, spent onto the bed (though it slid over his eyes). 

It stayed on as she pulled and jerked and sucked him back to hardness. 

It stayed on as she mounted him and rode to her own ecstacy.

It stayed on as she collapsed, sweaty and sated against his chest.

It stayed on as he stroked her back as she kissed his chest. 

It stayed on as she murmured words of desire and want, but no promises.

It stayed on when he kissed her and said he didn’t need her promises, he just needed her to know that he loved her.

 

When she kissed him back and said she loved him, too? The hat came off.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Cowalyn who photoshopped a wonderful image from which I drew sketch inspiration.
> 
> [Sketch](https://78.media.tumblr.com/16b9e00d392acb2061d5e5138b361256/tumblr_pf6hbm7uRL1u0nwjg_1280.png)   
>  [Sketch 2](https://78.media.tumblr.com/8e6f31cf193103a25229f198a74d6e9a/tumblr_pf6hboRK3B1u0nwjg_1280.png)


End file.
